i feel ill. Gross and gross. and weird. lethargic. but i don't want to sleep. i feel so disgusting that i've found myself writing about it on this pointless thing. as though it will make me feel better. maybe it will. i have to write about my feelings now. i have to write about my feelings. my feelings. i feel i feel i feel. i feel like this. now i feel like that. now i feel this and that and those again. i'm nauseated. i haven't been drunk for over a month. i haven't been anything but sober for thirty plus days. if i had a choice i wouldn't be. by choice i mean money. if i had a money. or two in my pocket. but then i might feel worse. there are people at my house now. i should entertain them. or at least be present. they might get worried. . but i don't think so. i've been eating an apple a day. i've been trying to be healthy. maybe that's because i can't afford to be unhealthy really. oh well. i should go now.